The crowing of the rooster and the smell of the stable follow us, we stop under the balcony of a house to wear the k-way, it starts to rain and there is also a strong wind. A few meters from us there are also the unpleasant of a little while ago.
From a road to the right, not far from us, three large bulls emerge; St and I remain petrified for a few interminable moments, but then we realize that a farmer follows them and, giggling, beckons us to be quiet. We burst out laughing, then, and breathe a sigh of relief.
A «Hi guys!» distracts us from our conversations and we find ourselves next to a blonde of about sixty with a huge backpack on her shoulder.
«Where are you from?» she asks us.
«I'm from Agrigento and he's from Naples» St replies with a smile.
«I am Tuscan; from Pontedera, to
